Page 112 of Red Masquerade

A knock came at the door, the muffled sound of Veronica’s voice from the other side. “It’s time.”

Below, other humans were beginning to gather. The foyer and halls and lawns were filled with men and women, oblivious to what really went on inside the house at these events—oblivious to the true purpose of these gatherings. I had never felt so disconnected from humanity. In a transient space—not one of them, but not a vampire, either.

I cleared my throat, pushing down my apprehension, and came out to the hall where Veronica waited. To my surprise, she was not dressed for the blood party. She must have seen the question on my face, because she explained, “Someone has to oversee things.”

I was beginning to understand that this was Veronica’s role—to take the lead when Vince wanted to lean back.

“Come,” she said, leading me down the hall.

There were already people milling about the main halls, wandering down corridors and into rooms. Curious gazes staring at the surrounding opulence. That had been me, once.

I glanced down at myself. “Should I not hide?”

“For what?” she asked, looking over at me as we walked. “None of them will remember the party in the morning.”

I said nothing else, and neither did she, her expression unenthusiastic as we went on. She looked straight ahead, either oblivious to my inspection or ignoring it, her nose straight, eyeshigh on her face, the black of her dress accentuating the soft tan of her skin. I had yet to see her smile.

At this point, I knew the way to the devilish double doors. When we turned the corner, my stomach dropped, but I tried not to show it. I held my head high, walking with a confidence I did not feel.

“Keep your head on straight,” Veronica said as we stopped before the door. I didn’t hear anything from behind, only a silence that seemed to listen back.

She waited for me.

I squared my shoulders, letting the chill of the marble floor beneath my feet tether me, ground me. And I pushed open the heavy wooden doors and stepped into the world of vampires.

In a moment, I was surrounded by a hundred sets of predatory eyes, all flicking in my direction at the interruption of the doors opening. The room was dim, the lights soft like candles, and every surface was plush and deep red. Truly a den of monsters, bodies writhing over each other like snakes, over every surface; the sounding of hissing, of groans, of ecstasy.

The vampires soon returned to their drinking, their fucking, only a choice few remaining staring at me. The strange human who’d interrupted.

Last time, I hadn’t passed the threshold.

Tonight, I joined them.

The rug was plush beneath my feet, the temperature of the room slightly raised from the hall. Maybe it was all the body heat, but it felt like a caress, an invitation to shed my robe. But glancing around, I suddenly felt conscious of my body and how it measured up to these women. Their hip bones jut against paleskin, swollen breasts moving with the rest of them; the curves of their bodies worshiped by large hands, by more feminine hands.

I couldn’t walk far into the room before my way was blocked by a trio on the ground. Two men and a woman—one man in the middle, receiving and giving, while the woman speared herself on his cock, and the other male behind him shoved himself inside. She had raw bites on her throat, blood dripping down her collarbone, in between her breasts. The man in the back looked at me, a devilish glint in his eye as he pumped himself in and out.

Heat rose to my cheeks.

Was it my body they wanted? Or my blood?

And I wasn’t sure which was better.

As I walked, I felt a soft hand on my calf, sliding up until it disappeared, and when I whirled around, a woman on her hands and knees grinned up at me, her sharp teeth piercing her lip, a dark red stain at the corners of her mouth.

She didn’t have to say it; I knew she wanted to play with me. And the electricity of her cold touch on my leg sent a curiosity through me, an urge I’d never felt before.

But Vince had told me,find me, and that’s what I intended to do.

The room was so full of bodies, I struggled to find any familiar faces. Or, they were face down, or pleasuring someone with their mouths, or perhaps so unrecognizable in this animalistic mass of bodies. They all became one, their movements connecting them together, even from opposite sides of the room.

I spotted Sinclair at a couch near the wall, where he sat—this time, not with another couple, but with Séra. Her robe was falling off her shoulder, her light brown skin exposed to the dimlamplight. He fisted his hand in her hair as she licked a stripe up his neck, then bit down. I saw the flash of pain in his eyes, then the influx of lust. His pupils growing until his eyes were black. She moved to straddle him, the robe parting for her as she feasted on his blood.

Seeing them, watching the others, brought a maddening dampness between my legs. I squeezed my thighs together, my muscles clenching involuntarily.

I wanted that. I wanted to be feasted on.

It turned my blood hot, all my thoughts directed to finding Vince, to wanting to climb on top of him, no matter who watched.